“So we will! Ned is doing well out West, and I’m hard at it here. If father does his best to give us the chance we each want, the least we can do is to work with a will.”
“Whatever you do, you can’t help working with a Will,” cried Tom, who had been so interested, that he forgot he was playing eavesdropper.
Polly flew up, looking so pleased and surprised, that Tom reproached himself for not having called oftener.
“I’ve come for Maud,” he announced, in a paternal tone, which made that young lady open her eyes.
“I can’t go till my apple is done; besides, it isn’t nine yet, and Will is going to take me along, when he goes. I’d rather have him.”
“I’m going to take you both in the cutter. The storm is over, but it is heavy walking, so you’ll drive out with me, old man?” said Tom, with a nod at Will.
“Of course we will; and thank you very much. I’ve been trying to keep him all night; Miss Mills always manages to find a corner for stray people, but he insists on going, so as to get to work early to-morrow,” said Polly, delighted to see that Tom was taking off his coat, as if he meant to wait for Maud’s apple, which Polly blessed for being so slow to cook.
Putting her guest into the best chair, Polly sat down and beamed at him with such hospitable satisfaction, that Tom went up several pegs in his own estimation.
“You don’t come very often, so we are rather overpowered when you do honour us,” she said demurely.
“Well, you know we fellows are so busy, we haven’t much time to enjoy ourselves,” answered Tom.
“Ahem!” said Will, loudly.
“Take a troche,” said Tom.
Then they both burst out laughing, and Polly, fully understanding the joke, joined them, saying,—
“Here are some peanuts, Tom; do enjoy yourself while you can.”
“Now I call that a delicate compliment!” And Tom, who had not lost his early relish for this sort of refreshment, though he seldom indulged his passion nowadays, because peanuts were considered vulgar, fell to cracking and munching with great satisfaction.
“Do you remember the first visit I made at your house, how you gave me peanuts, coming from the depot, and frightened me out of my wits, pretending the coachman was tipsy?” asked Polly.
“Of course I do, and how we coasted one day,” answered Tom, laughing.
“Yes, and the velocipede; you’ve got the scar of that yet, I see.”
“I remember how you stood by me while it was sewed up; that was very plucky, Polly.”
“I was dreadfully afraid, but I remember I wanted to seem very brave, because you’d called me a coward.”
“Did I? Ought to have been ashamed of myself. I used to rough you shamefully, Polly, and you were so good-natured, you let me do it.”
“Couldn’t help myself,” laughed Polly. “I did use to think you were an awful boy, but seems to be I rather liked it.”